I know you won’t read this
and I know you won’t care
but I will tell you what it was like.

It was blurry.
it was slow
but time was running fast.
It was dusty feet
and dusty souls.
It was feeling nothing
and then all at once.
It was hating you
to drown the urge of hugging you.
It was writing a poem
and post it
wishing you will relate to it.

But who cares,
you don’t.

A little dust
Friend of ash
Wish shining like a diamond in the rush
Falling in love with blue pearl that crawling in brush
Dreaming that's gonna be her last
But the wind trying to remind her that's just a crush
She had nothing but only trust

-Coming Home-

The door creaked open
And dust flew from the floor,
Shimmering in the sunlight,
As I came home.
Cracking walls were a surprise
Next to my room’s door,
Cement broke under my feet
And a gecko ran into its hole.
But it seemed as I had left it
The windows that were closed,
My books and seashells waiting
And the clock ticking on.
Amidst the cold surfaces
Sometimes we find ourselves,
Familiarity seems to be the reason
To love and connect.
I felt them all welcoming
Though tired from their sleep,
Stretching under my gentle touch
Mocking eternity.
The hands showed me all
That I thought I had missed,
The seconds ticked by,
There I was, with nothing amiss.

I swim in the dark space
between the stars and dust
trying to find the hidden grace
to choose is hard but you must

it's difficult without your shoes
to step on the broken fragments
of the shattered stars and planets

some of them shine bright
while others hide from the light
as the newborn flowers
which blossom at daylight
and close in the silence of night

cracks are in the universe
where flowers squeeze through
the seeds of the soul immerse
themselves in cosmos blue

and I wait until the ice melts
and gather the flowers in dust
to make them blossom in august